


I've got your name written here

by okaystop



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: 2008 Campaign Era (Crooked Media RPF), Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Feelings, M/M, Multi, Names on wrists, Polyamory, Realizations, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Tattoos, so many feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-01-07 14:26:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18412487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaystop/pseuds/okaystop
Summary: Dan starts wearing long sleeves when he's sixteen years old. It's not okay to have two names. It's not normal.





	I've got your name written here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LilyRosePotter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyRosePotter/gifts).



> I couldn't get this out of my head, and I hope you enjoy this extra treat, LilyRosePotter!
> 
> Title from "Rose Tattoo" by the Dropkick Murphys.
> 
> I know everyone knows this by now but I'd like to ask that you please keep this secret and keep it safe. Don't post links or discuss it in public spaces, etc. or with anyone involved in or adjacent to Crooked Media. Thank you!

Dan stood in front of a display of long-sleeved t-shirts in J.C. Penney, staring. His hand, in his pocket, felt the fold of birthday and Christmas money he'd brought along with him, and he swallowed. He could get one in every color, he thought, and at least that way there'd be some appearance of a varied wardrobe. He had a feeling that most sixteen-year-old guys didn't think about their collection of shirts the way he thinking about it right now, but then again, Dan was pretty sure he wasn't like most sixteen-year-old guys. In fact, he knew he wasn't. 

He unconsciously rubbed his forearm, through the thick fabric of the sweatshirt he was wearing, and then lunged forward to pile one shirt in each color into his arms. He trudged over to the sales counter to pay for them, smiling politely at the older woman who reminded him of his grandmother as she chattered away at him while folding the shirts and ringing him up. He thanked her and then hurried away, trying not to feel embarrassed at his purchases, especially because it's not like the woman knew _why_. No one just looking at him would ever know why, especially not if he kept his arms covered.

The names appeared late in the day on Christmas Eve, his 16th birthday, just as they were supposed to. The problem is, he had two names, one on each forearm, in different handwriting. On his left arm, just below his wrist, the name Jonathan. And on his right, a little lower and more slanted, the name Thomas. Dan, who had been anxious all day about when his name might appear and what it would be, panicked.

He knew that people were going to ask. Everyone asked. Everyone talked about it. Speculated. Did they know a Tamara? Paul? Austin? Lily? When would they meet, how long down the road? Did you know you would end up with a woman, a man? But no one ever said, you have two names, how cool. Dan didn't know _anyone_ who had two names. What did that even mean?

He had avoided all questions, and with Christmas the next day, he got away with it. But he knew that as soon as he got back to school after Christmas break, all of his friends would be asking him about it. Everyone would want to know who his soulmate is. 

Dan never used to worry about it. He was one of those friends who got excited when his friends got their names. Liked to talk about it, ask questions, wonder, play the what-if game. But now he wondered how many of his friends he'd made uncomfortable with that attention. Because he didn't want the attention. He just wanted to wear long sleeves and pretend the names never showed up at all. He definitely didn't want to speculate about who Jonathan and Thomas were, where they were, when he'd meet them, why they were both there. No, he just wanted to forget the whole thing.

The problem was, it wasn't easy to forget the whole thing when it was something everyone else wanted to talk about, especially at sixteen years old.

Miraculously, having a birthday on Christmas Eve, over a school break, made it easier for him to fly under the radar. Especially when Jake, the captain of the football team, came in after his birthday on January 3rd with the name Melissa on his wrist. Melissa, who already had the name Jacob on her arm, was the head cheerleader, and immediately the school banded around the two of them, celebrating the soulmates coming out of the _best of them_ , or something, at their high school. Two of their own, soulmates, who would have thought, and the quarterback and head cheerleader, like something out of a rom com.

Before, Dan would have been caught up in the excitement along with everyone else. But now he was only caught in it because it took the attention off of him, and even his best friends didn't push Dan to tell them what name he had. And Dan was absolutely okay with that.

 

*

"Are you waiting for your soulmate?" Rachel asked the question offhandedly, glancing at Dan over the top of her coffee cup. She smiled and wiped at her mouth with the side of her fingers. "Sorry," she said quickly. "I just think it's best to get the question out of the way early on." She turned her arm to show him that the name Wesley was scrawled on her pale forearm. "Not you," she finished sheepishly.

Dan let out a breath, half a laugh. "Yeah, I mean - it's good to just get that out there. I don't have your name either," he said, which mostly went without saying. Soulmates had each other's names. There were so few instances otherwise that they barely counted. (Of course most of those were because of people not caring what name was written on an arm and falling in love anyway. Dan never thought that was very fair to their other half, but what did he know, going through life with two names on his arms.) "To answer your question, I am. At least, I hope I'll meet them some day, but I haven't yet. So I'm waiting but not in the whole saving myself way."

Every John or Jon or Jonathan or Tom or Thomas that Dan had met since he turned sixteen had been so obviously not a soulmate that he hadn't bothered to give them his time. 

"Yeah, me neither. The only Wesley I know of is the one in 'The Princess Bride' and I think he spelled it with a 'T,' not to mention the whole fictional character thing. And the fact that he had 'Buttercup' written on his arm. God, I love that movie."

Dan smiled at her. He liked Rachel, had picked her out of the hundred or so people in his Intro to Communications class and asked her out. "It's a good one," he agreed. He tugged at the bottom of his sleeve, in that way he tended to do anytime the topic of soulmates came up. 

"I always get a little worried," she went on, "since Rachel's such a common name, every time someone asks me out. I like to just put it on the table, so I'm glad we're on the same page."

"We are," he said. He reached for a sugar packet and tore it open, dumping it into his coffee. "I've kind of figured, what's the point in not meeting new people and having a good time just because you haven't met your soulmate yet, you know?"

Rachel's smile brightened her face. "I know exactly what you mean. My roommate is on a strict no one but her _name_ , even to look at. It's ridiculous. Of course, she's got a common name too. It's John or something boring. I mean, I feel bad for people who have that much vagueness, even people with my name. How many Johns and Rachels and whatever are out there! Even your name - Dan, Daniel, really, I assume?" Dan didn't correct her, just nodded along. "It's like that movie, what is it … '50 First Dates' where Adam Sandler goes out with every girl with his soulmate's name until he finds Drew Barrymore? How exhausting."

Dan had common names on his arms, _two_ of them. He wasn't sure if that made things easier or harder for him. Sometimes he imagined two guys walking up to him at the same time, big toothy smiles, hands extended, introducing themselves as Jonathan-and-Thomas, like it was one name, one person instead of two. Sometimes he wondered if they both had two names too, or if he was just not normal. 

He chuckled a little. "Yeah, that movie's weird but I guess people out there do that. What - how do you think it'll happen? When you finally meet your Wesley?"

Rachel shrugged. "Oh I've got no idea. I'm torn between hoping it'll be stupid mundane or it being some epic life-changing meeting. Then again, real life isn't the movies. We can't all live in 'When Harry Met Sally,' you know?" 

Dan finally picked up his coffee and took a long sip. "Wouldn't it be nice if we did though." Not only nice, but how much simpler. He wouldn't live in a constant state of discomfort or anxiety, and he wouldn't always be wondering why he had two names. The script would answer that question for him right from the start.

 

*

Rachel tucked her feet under Dan's lap and wrapped her arms around her knees. "He's _great_ , Dan," she said, eyes bright. "Seriously, like - sometimes I wondered if all these people who say their soulmates are perfect for them are just embellishing or whatever because we're supposed to but Wesley is -" She struggled for the right words. "He's everything I never knew I wanted. I mean, I tried not to have expectations and I tried not to build him up in my head but he's - God, he's incredible." Her face went red and she buried her cheek against her knee. "Sorry, sorry," she muttered. "Listen to me going on like this -"

Dan rubbed her wrist, her smile contagious, hurting his cheeks. "What are you apologizing for? I'm happy for you." And he was, really. _Really_. She'd moved into best friend territory fairly quickly. Honestly, Dan didn't know what he'd do without her.

She peeked at him. "Really?"

"Yes, really," he said. 

Rachel smiled and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. "That means a lot, Dan. I've been - really worried about this, about us. I know, I know it's silly but - if platonic soulmates were a thing, that would be us."

"Of course it would be us," he said.

Her smile grew for a moment before slipping a bit. She tugged at the wrist of his long sleeved shirt. "You know," she said, drawing the words out. "I know almost everything about you, except for this." She didn't push up his sleeve but her fingers pushed against his wrist. "Dan?"

He swallowed. It was true, how much the two of them shared over the last four years. He'd never told her - he'd never told _anyone_ \- about the two names. He could have, probably, shared only his left arm, ignored the name on his right, but that felt disingenuous. Unfair to whoever Thomas was. He didn't want to treat them differently, his two soulmates. So he just never said anything.

"I don't want to make a big deal out of it," Rachel was saying. "And I promise I'm not going to turn into one of those friends who start hounding you to look for your soulmate or insist you sign up on one of those soulmate dating apps."

Dan took a deep breath. "Yeah I know you won't," he said. The truth was, he probably needed to tell somebody. He always managed to dodge the question, change the subject. He'd been lucky with that over the years. Even his parents he'd managed to keep this from. He had no idea how he'd gotten away with that for this long.

He hesitated, maybe a moment too long, and then sat back. "All right," Dan said, "okay." Before he could change his mind, he pushed up both sleeves and held his arms out for Rachel to look at.

She zeroed in on the left, eyes widening. "Jonathan?" she read, leaning in close to be sure. "Oh, Dan, is this why you're so secretive about it? Because it's a guy's name?" Her face fell. "That's - don't be upset about that. It makes sense, really, and I don't like thinking that you're ashamed -"

He cut her off. "I'm not ashamed. I don't care that it's a guy's name. I like - guys. Too. That's not why -" But trying to explain it wouldn't work, so he just pushed his right arm into her field of vision. "This is why."

Rachel blinked, shaking her head. "I don't understand," she said, looking between both of his arms. "How do you have two names?"

Dan felt that same panic building up, the one in the pit of his stomach, leaping up into his chest, his throat, making everything feel so very tight. "I don't know," he said, all the words coming out in a rush. "I don't know. They both showed up like that, at the same time. Just like they're supposed to but there were two of them and there's always been two and _I don't know why_."

Her expression softened, and she took Dan's hands again. "Oh Dan," she said. "I don't - you have _two_ soulmates. Isn't that a good thing?" Her voice was tentative, a little shaky.

He pulled his hands out of her grip. "I've never heard of it happening before," he said. "It can't be good. It's not normal. It's not a thing that happens. Besides, I can't even find one of them so how am I supposed to find two?"

Rachel pursed her lips. "Some people don't find their soulmate until they're a lot older. Not everyone finds them in high school or even college. But that doesn't mean he - _they_ \- aren't out there. And just think, they probably have two names too, right?"

"Do they?" Dan countered. "We don't know that. They could just have one name or each other's names and maybe they've already found each other and don't know that they're even supposed to be looking for me!"

"Dan - !"

"There are all those stories out there," he continued, "about people never meeting their soulmate. I know they don't make movies about that sort of thing - who'd want to go see something that horrible - but it happens." He'd read about it on internet message boards. He'd drowned in those message boards. "Or people who meet their soulmates and they've already found someone else. It happens. That sort of thing happens." He pushed his arms at her, displaying his wrists. "This sort of thing doesn't happen!" He could have gone on, but Dan took one look at Rachel's face and slumped back, pressing his fingers to his cheeks.

"Maybe people just aren't talking about it," Rachel said, finally, in a small voice. "But I don't think it's a bad thing."

"I don't think it's a good thing," Dan countered.

She sighed, heavily, and turned to sit forward on the couch, moving away from him. "I'm sorry," she said after another moment. "I don't like to see you so upset about this."

"I usually try not to think about it," he said, tugging his sleeves back down to cover up the names. "I'd rather not think about it."

She looked at him. "But one day, you're going to meet Jonathan and Thomas, right?" Rachel set a hand on his knee gently. "What are you going to do do then? You're going to have to think about it then."

His stomach bottomed out. "Oh god, do you think I'm going to have to choose between them?" Immediately, Dan imagined two faceless guys standing in front of him waiting to be chosen. "Like, they're going to both be there with my name on their arms and I have to pick one?"

"No," Rachel said quickly. "No, I don't think that…" It was clear that she did think that. What other option was there besides him being the odd one out of their soulmate bond? "Dan, come on."

He shook his head and pushed his face into his palms. "I just don't want to talk about it anymore. You're the first person I've ever told."

"Oh, Dan." Rachel was always really good at giving hugs, and this one was no exception. Dan fell easily into her arms, tucking his chin on top of her head as she rolled against him. "We'll figure this out," she said, her voice muffled by his arm as he wrapped his around her. "You're not going to end up alone. I won't allow it."

Her saying out loud Dan's biggest fear, just like that, probably should have terrified him even more. But instead it made him feel a little better, like maybe now that it wasn't all bottled up inside of him all the time, maybe he could confront it.

 

*

Barely one week into Dan's work on the Obama campaign, he was already feeling the stress of the job. He popped an antacid into his mouth and looked up at the knock on his office door. "Dan Pfeiffer? I'm Jon Favreau." The man, who was sporting an unfortunate buzz cut, held out a hand.

Dan took it. "Yeah," he said, "you're a speechwriter, right?" 

Jon smiled, showing off a gap between his front teeth. Dan felt his stomach tumble, not in an unpleasant way. "That's me. Hey, I'm really looking forward to working with you." His grip was sure and strong, and Dan's eyes flitted in the way they always did down to his forearms, but Jon was wearing a long sleeved dress shirt, just like Dan was.

"I'm looking forward to it too. Glad to come aboard."

Jon's smile grew. "We're glad to have you." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Hey you'll probably be working with my friend Tommy," he said. "He's out in Iowa right now, press secretary. He says it's going pretty well so far."

Dan nodded. "Yeah, I'm hoping to get to know everyone on the communications team better soon. I know we're all spread out now, but we'll manage."

"Absolutely," Jon said. "Well, I'll let you get back to it. If you need anything, let me know. I'll be around."

"Thanks, Jon," Dan said, and just like that, Jon was gone and Dan was standing in his haphazard office, alone, with a weird feeling in his stomach and the feeling of Jon's hand leftover in his own. He was tired, he knew that, and overwhelmed by getting thrown so quickly into the mix here in Chicago, that his head was swimming.

There was something rolling around in the back of his mind that he just couldn't put to words quite yet. He didn't have time to think about it, either, so he just got back to organizing his to-do list, look over his travel plans, and get to work.

 

*

The first time Dan saw Jon and Tommy together, he couldn't breathe. Of course, that was because he was on the basketball court and during the half-second it took for him to notice the two of them walking over in their own t-shirts and gym shorts, a passed ball hit him in the chest and knocked him on his back.

"Shit, sorry man," Ben said as he offered Dan a hand and helped him back to his feet. 

Dan brushed himself off. "It's fine. Don't worry about it." He adjusted the sleeves of his shirt (he was sweating through it but it didn't change the fact that he wore long sleeves) and brushed himself off. He lifted an arm to wave at Jon and Tommy.

"Hey," Tommy said, jogging up to where the two-on-two game had slowed since Dan went flat on his back. "Have room for two more?" He was young - Jon and Tommy both were - younger than Dan and in that weird fit-but-not-fit state that happens from being constantly on the move but also eating horribly on the campaign trail.

"Of course," Dan said. He bounced the ball over to Tommy, who caught it with a grin. "You're with me. Jon, other team." 

As the six of them maneuvered to start playing again, Dan couldn't help but notice that both Jon and Tommy were wearing t-shirts, and that it was probably the first time he saw either of them in short sleeves. It wasn't that odd; they were on a political campaign and it was necessary to dress nicely after all and that usually meant dress shirts. But still. 

But neither of them had exposed their wrists, Dan noticed. (Of course he noticed. As someone who made it a point never to show off his abnormal soulmate names, he always noticed peoples' wrists.) Instead, they both wore sweat bands there, covering up whatever name might be underneath. Dan was sure that they both only had one name though. Everyone besides him only ever had one name.

By the end of a short game of three-on-three, Dan was sweaty and sore and ready for a beer. "Anyone up for pitchers and wings?" he asked. They had a rare evening off and while Dan knew he probably needed to go back to his tiny apartment and take a nap, he didn't really want to.

Jon and Tommy shared a look. "Sure, we're in," Jon said. He uncapped a bottle of water and drank from it, and Dan couldn't take his eyes off the long line of his throat and the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Tommy was watching too.

The other guys bowed out, leaving Dan and Jon and Tommy to head down the street to the bar that tended to get their business more often than anywhere else, on account of its proximity to campaign headquarters. It was clear to Dan by the time that the three of them got to the bar and settled into a corner booth with beers in reach and a plate full of nachos and wings in front of them, that Jon and Tommy were Jon-and-Tommy, together.

They leaned into each other, entered each other's space naturally, easily finished each other's thoughts. Dan even noticed Tommy's hand drift to Jon's back as they walked into the bar. He felt an immediate and visceral amount of jealousy, coursing through him like there were ants crawling through his veins. He'd never felt like that before, not with anyone he's been attracted to or dated or even anyone he saw find their soulmate and pair off, like with Rachel. He'd also, he realized, never felt this kind of desire for a guy before, and here he was feeling it for two of them.

The easiest explanation Dan could tell himself is that they had his names. His soulmates' names. Well, he wasn't sure if Jon was a Jonathan but Tommy was probably a Thomas. He couldn't dwell on it too much though, because it would drive him crazy, and he was years past letting it do that.

Dan took a slow sip of his beer, glancing across the table at Jon and Tommy, sitting close enough to each other that their shoulders touched, that probably under the table their legs would be against each other's too. "So how long have the two of you been together?" Dan asked.

Jon coughed into his beer. He looked at Tommy then at Dan, cheeks pink. Tommy ducked his head. "We've been - trying not to be too obvious about it," he said, clearing his throat.

"Don't want to draw attention or anything," Tommy said. His beer was still on the table and he scratched the inside of his wrist, underneath the sweatband still wrapped around it.

Dan's fist curled against his thigh, just for a moment. "Oh," he said. In his experience - in everyone's experience - when people didn't want to draw attention to the fact that they were in a relationship, it was because they didn't have each other's names. "Well, forget I said anything then. You're not - too obvious." Just obvious to him, but Dan had no idea how to explain that.

"No, it's fine," Tommy continued quickly. His fingers found the back of Jon's hand on the table and brushed past his knuckles briefly. "It's just - complicated."

"I get it," Dan said, his tone tight.

"No, I don't think you do," Jon said, calmly. "I - " He hesitated now, a little, glanced at Tommy before continuing. "You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but - I've noticed you only ever wear long sleeves. Why?"

Dan rubbed his forearm. "Uh…" No one had ever asked him that before. He figured that no one ever noticed. But maybe more people had than he realized. 

"It's just that most people show off their name, whether they've paired off or not. Not many people make an effort to keep it covered." Jon looked at Tommy again.

"I've met people who hide it," Dan said carefully. He tried to keep the judgement out of his tone. "Usually when they're in a committed relationship with someone who doesn't have their name. When they've ignored the soulmate bond."

Tommy took off his sweatband to reveal the name Jonathan scrawled on the inside of his wrist in a familiar script. Dan stared at it, eyes narrowing. "Yeah, that's what I've seen too," Tommy said. 

Jon did the same, showing off his name: Thomas.

Dan shook his head. "Then I'm not really sure what you're getting at here," he said, tone sharp. He crossed his arms and sat back, defensive. "I haven't met mine yet and I don't feel any need to go broadcasting it out to everyone. No one needs to see my arms. We all have names, right?"

"We haven't met ours yet either," Tommy said, quickly, to cover the way Dan was starting to get upset.

Dan shook his head. "You just showed me. You have each other. I don't know -"

"We both have two," Tommy rushed on. He tore his sweat band off to reveal his other wrist, bony and pale, except for one word, a second name. A second name just like Dan had a second name. A second name in writing that Dan knew - intimately. 

Jon, sheepish and red-faced, did the same. 

Dan stopped breathing. His head spun. He felt weak. He _literally_ couldn't breathe.

"Dan?" Jon ventured, worry making his voice waver.

"I have to go," he nearly shoulder, standing up so quickly that the table wobbled. He couldn't look at either of them. Couldn't be in the same place. He needed air.

Dan fled.

 

*

An hour later, freshly showered and shaved, Dan sat on the ratty couch in his bare, studio apartment and stared out the window. 

It was dark now, though clear, the moonlight shining in to fill the apartment so that Dan didn't have to turn on any lights. He'd called Rachel a half hour ago but got her voicemail, and he hadn't left a message. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to do either. His instinct was to run. But that would mean quitting his job, this campaign, and he didn't want to do that. At least he was on the road more than he was in Chicago.

The knock on the door didn't startle him.

He almost didn't answer it. He sat on the couch until a second knock came, and for a moment he wondered how long it would take until they left. 

Dan got up and walked over, opening the door and saying nothing.

"Can we come in?" Jon asked.

Dan stepped aside and let them in. After his shower, he'd dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. One of the few t-shirts he still owned, an undershirt, really, and it was ratty and worn, and he didn't even care that his wrists were exposed.

"I've never met anyone else with two names," he said once Jon and Tommy were inside, the door was closed, and the three of them were all looking at each other waiting for one of the others to speak. "And here you are, both of you, with two names each." The fact that his tone was tired, dull, wasn't lost on him. 

"You have two names too," Tommy said, as though that was in question. Dan realized he hadn't come right out and said it before, at the bar, but it was out there now.

He fought to keep from hiding his hands behind his back. "Yeah, I do. Your - names."

Jon let out a breath like a half-sob. "We didn't know," he said. "I - early on I said to Tommy that I felt a connection to you - he said he felt the same way - but - my wrist doesn't say Dan or Daniel. You have to understand -" He sounded panicked, or at least on the verge of panic.

Tommy put a hand on Jon's shoulder, stepped a fraction closer. "I saw your given name on some paperwork," he said. "I've always had a real problem with the fact that soulmate tattoos don't adhere to who we actually are. No one in the world calls me Thomas, not even my mom."

Dan agreed with that wholeheartedly, but then again he had never been sure what name would show up, when - if - he'd ever meet his soulmate(s). "Yeah, I - "

"But we're here now," Jon said quickly. He made the first move, reaching out for Dan's hand, stalling halfway there before Dan reached out himself and let Jon take him by the arm, the one with his name on it. "Wow," he said.

Dan stared down at Jon's fingers wrapped around his wrist, pressing into the letters scrawled there. "Yeah." He was pretty sure he was shaking. "Look, I don't - " He paused, trying to find the words he wanted to use to say what he needed to say. "I don't want to mess up whatever you two have." He pulled out of Jon's reach. "I've always figured it would just come to a point where someone had to make a choice, so I can just bow out, make that choice easy for all of us."

He saw the way they were together, which made more sense now that he saw that they shared each other's names. They made sense. They were an attractive couple, clearly had no problems being together, were so easy together. He couldn't believe he hadn't noticed it before. It was so obvious now, with the two of them standing in front of him. 

"What are you talking about?" Tommy asked, lips parted and light eyebrows raised high onto his forehead. "Why would you bow out?"

"I'm only going to complicate things," Dan pointed out. "So I'm saying, it's fine. You two should be together - you look - _really_ good together." He hoped that sound, the hitch in his tone, the breathless way the word 'really' came out, wasn't noticeable. "I'll be fine."

"No," Jon said, firm and loud. "You won't be fine. _We_ won't be fine either. Why would you even say that?"

"I'm not sure what you're looking for me to say," Dan said helplessly. 

"Well, we don't want to hear you say you're not interested," Jon said.

"Unless you're not," Tommy tagged on with. When he looked at Dan, his eyes were narrowed, his arm crossed over his stomach. He could have been tapping his foot, even, anxiously. "Is that - are you not interested?"

Dan swore under his breath and shook his head. "Of course I'm interested," he said. He held up a hand when it was obvious Jon was moments away from surging forward and touching him. "It's just - complicated. Three people like this? It's not - normal."

"What does 'normal' have to do with anything?" Tommy asked.

Dan shrugged. "It would just be easier -"

"Do you think any of us would be here, would even be a part of this campaign, fighting to get Obama elected as _President_ , if we wanted to be doing things that were easy?" Tommy's tone had a sharpness to it, and compared with Jon's desperation, Dan felt like he needed to be a steadying hand in the whole thing. In their whole thing. The three of them.

"It's just -"

Jon reached out then, his palms against Dan's elbows, his hips knocking against Dan's hips. "I need to kiss you," he said in a low breath, cheeks red. "Can I do that? Please? Before we make any decisions -"

Tommy cleared his throat and Dan managed to move his focus away from Jon, right in front of him, over to Tommy. Worried about what he was going to see on Tommy's face, but mostly it was just a fondness, exasperation. "Jon's MO is being affectionate," he said. "You'll get used to it."

Dan didn't really have time to respond because his first instinct was to nod, which Jon took as a yes to a kiss and Dan had a momentary glimpse of Tommy's amused expression before Jon's mouth was on his.

It wasn't that Dan hadn't kissed many people before - he had, of course, mostly women - but he'd never kissed his soulmate before. He didn't expect it to feel any different, and to a point, it didn't at all. It was almost like any other kiss, except that it was with Jon, and Tommy was just out of arm's reach away, and Dan thought this was never going to happen for him.

He clenched his hands at his sides, then forced himself to relax, to lean into Jon. He moved a hand up between them, fisting at Jon's t-shirt. He opened his mouth and moaned into the kiss. What the hell, he thought, wildly. He relaxed even more when he felt a hand at his back, a hand that wasn't either of Jon's, which were still pressed against his arms, holding him tightly. Tommy's palm was warm and large, and then his body was too, sandwiching Dan between the two of them.

Jon pulled back, only enough to tip his forehead against Dan's. They were both breathing heavily. "Fuck easy," he said. "We're not complete without you."

Dan looked at him, turned, strained his neck to look at Tommy. "I don't know -"

Tommy swallowed the words down by kissing Dan now, his turn. Whereas Jon had put so much passion, desperation into kissing Dan, Tommy's mouth against his was intense, serious, but no less wanting. "We'll figure this out," he said, quietly, sincerely. He reached around Dan to take Jon's hand. "All three of us."

Dan took a deep breath. He didn't know if he believed them, their unwavering hope and optimism, not only on the campaign trail but also here, now, in this moment. But he realized that he wanted to believe them. A smile twisted his lips, and he nodded. "Yeah, all right."


End file.
